


if honey had a sound

by hexed_vexed



Series: the fruit of my skysolo labor [3]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: (Pretty self-indulgent), Angst?, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst?, Idiots in Love, I’m not sure what to call it?, Love Confession (sorta), Luke misses Han, M/M, Meditation, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Stress Relief, Visions and Illusions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 18:46:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17945105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hexed_vexed/pseuds/hexed_vexed
Summary: A rough and warming chuckle was ringing through his ears. It sounded like honey.(If honey could have a sound, Luke imagined it to be smooth, yet sweet. Sticky and heavy while also being soft and light. That was if honey actually had a sound, of course.)or, Luke is in training with Yoda and he finds himself in a place he calls home. It just so happens that place also includes a special someone.





	if honey had a sound

**Author's Note:**

> i listened to _ghostin_ (ariana grande), _dancing in the dark_ (imagine dragons), _end of all things_ (panic!), and _cancer_ (twenty one pilots).
> 
> so, basically, this is a whole whirl of emotions in a tiny drabble about some things luke thinks about to calm himself. and some of the things he loves. and wants. and misses. 
> 
> i hope you enjoy.

_Focus on the things you love most,_ Yoda had told him.

 

(Though, it was more like, “On the things you love most, you must focus. Hmm?” but Luke understood nonetheless.)

 

His new Jedi master wanted Luke to focus on not only the physical training he’d been enduring for what seemed like days on end, but his mind, too. Meditation was important for a Jedi, or so both Yoda and Obi-Wan had claimed time and time again. It was getting to be tiring, with the Empire on the Rebellion’s heels and Luke’s training weighing on his shoulders. Maybe when he was younger and less aware of the Rebellion’s “ _adventures_ ,” Luke would have more of the fire he had in the beginning of this war.

 

Now, he was just exhausted. Not ready to quit, but in desperate need of a decent night’s sleep and a day to breathe again. It was too much to ask for, he knew.

 

Luke tried to close his eyes and focus, but obviously it wasn’t working. He was too inside his own head to clear it. Yoda noticed his distress. That was when he told Luke to focus on the things - _people_ and _places_ , rather - that he loved.

 

“I’ll try my best,” he sighed with no commitment in his voice.

 

Yoda gave him an unimpressed look and he didn’t need to open his eyes. Luke could feel his impatience rippling through the swamp and in the Force.

 

“ _Sorry._ No try, only _do_ ,” Luke corrected himself.

 

When his master seemed to be content enough, Luke relaxed his muscles. He was so tightly wound over the past few days, that he couldn’t think straight. Now was time to let go. Luke tuned into his surroundings. The life coursing through each creature, how everything breathed in unison, and he let it all fade. When he came to, Luke found himself in the infamous _Millennium Falcon._

 

He’d missed it more than he missed the suns of Tatooine. Much more than the dunes and _itchy_ (but _oh so achingly_ familiar) sand of the dusty planet. It was never his home, but this ship would always be just that.

 

_Home._

 

Luke inhaled the dense air of the ship in his thoughts. He wanted to cleanse his senses in the burning metallic smell of the _Falcon._ It reminded him of how everything worked so perfectly. How each piece of the ship _fit_ and had its place. Luke could sense a comforting presence beside him and he held onto it.

 

 _Focused_ on it.

 

The presence was uplifting and careful despite its gruff outer shell. It was hesitant and undemanding, so Luke reached out. A rough and warming chuckle was ringing through his ears. It sounded like honey.

 

(If honey could have a sound, Luke imagined it to be smooth, yet sweet. Sticky and heavy while also being soft and light. That was if honey actually had a sound, of course.)

 

“ _It’s the ship that made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs. I’ve outrun Imperial starships, not the local bulk-cruisers…”_

 

Luke felt a sudden warmth enveloping him in what he could sense was a hug. Firm and unwavering, the warmth swelled in the boy’s heart and pumped through his blood. Like oxygen, Luke became _dependent_ on it.

 

“ _Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side, kid.”_

 

Suddenly thousands of voices filled the room. All were the same, or from the same source. They shared the same rough voice and quality to them. All things Luke remembers hearing throughout his few years on the _Falcon._

 

Luke felt the voices get louder as they echoed through his mind. His thoughts wavered and focus unraveled as they got unbearably loud. Until they all fell quickly silent, as if recognizing Luke’s discomfort in the noise.

 

He then felt hot breathe on his right ear, lingering closely over his shoulder. Luke steadied himself and a set of lips brushed against his skin. He shuddered at the unexpected touch.

 

 _I love you_ , they whispered.

 

 _I know, Han,_ Luke heard himself say. The words sat on his tongue. _Familiar_. Too familiar.

 

Being pulled out rapidly from the illusion, Luke tried to desperately grasp onto the memories. The _Falcon,_ his friends, the Rebellion, his sister, and most important of them all:

 

Han.

 

A scream ripped through his throat, but no noise accompanied it. Luke looked around frantically. He was floating, legs crossed, high above the ground. Objects levitated with him as well. Artoo squealed unhappily, large stones rolled in the air, vines were raised to the sky, and a _tree_ was beginning to tear from its roots.

 

“Done well young Skywalker, you have,” Yoda near shouted up to Luke.

 

Pride swirled through his chest, but so did the immediate pain in his legs when he hit the ground. _I need to work on the landing,_ Luke thought to himself as he wiped a sweaty hand down his face.

 

______

 

Late into the night, creatures chirped eagerly outside of Yoda’s compact hut. A fire crackled inside, warming some kind of soup for both Luke and the Jedi master. The young man looked curiously at his dinner over the fire, but knew he had to keep his patience with him.

 

“Han Solo,” Yoda spoke softly, cutting through the silence of the hut.

 

Luke felt his chest tighten at the mentioning of the name, but kept his eyes trained on the pot of soup. It could have been the hunger. It could have also been because Luke didn’t want to have to face the question waiting on his master’s mind.

 

Yoda must have known what he was thinking about, and laughed under his breath.

 

“You are soon going to be the only Jedi left, yes?” The aged Jedi asked, a quizzing expression on his face as Luke turned to look towards him.

 

The young man nodded.

 

“Your own destiny you make, yes?”

 

Luke didn’t answer right away and Yoda seemed to grin at the lack of response.

 

“Our code. Old, outdated. Your choice to abide by it is, young Skywalker,” Yoda said.

 

Luke could feel his heart swelling with a type of giddiness he hadn’t felt in a long time since. It felt nice, validation. Han had told him over and over, since Yavin and the ceremony, that only Luke had control of his destiny. That the codes didn’t matter, and that he should live his life the way _he wanted._

 

Now it became all the more believable.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos,  
> comments,  
> bookmarks,
> 
> whatever you fancy.
> 
> (this whole story can really swing either way. sad or happy, i haven’t decided. im leaving it up to you. also a lot of the time frames in this dont really abide by canon?.. but everything i do is canon divergent at this point so rock on).


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